


Under the Influence

by Missy



Category: Hairspray (2007)
Genre: Alcohol, Beaches, Concerts, F/M, Humor, Slice of Life, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-25
Updated: 2010-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 02:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Tracy's missteps turn out be great successes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Influence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for schmoop_bingo, prompt "A Day at the Beach"

After being best friends with Penny Pingleton for over ten years, Tracy was used to her sudden outbursts of excitement. Still, when she suddenly burst out into the school hallway shrieking her name, she recoiled backward, instinctively protective.

"TRACY!" she felt her friend's fingers dig into her shoulder. "You won't believe it! There's no way you could believe it! Even I don't believe it!"

"Penny, chill!" Tracy begged. Penny was almost vibrating with excitement. When she thrust forth a pink mimeographed flyer, Tracy's eyes crossed. She had to squint to read the print.

"The WBRZU Spring Fling on the Beach, featuring The Byrds, The Everly Brothers, Maybelline and the Tigers, The Dixie Cups and Social Riot's Freeport Connection." Tracy stared blank and moon-eyed at the flyer for a few moments, long enough for Seaweed to bump into them in the hallway.

"What is going on under that headband?" Seaweed asked.

"I showed her this and she wigged out!" Tracy heard the flyer being passed to Seaweed.

"Girl, I saw that last week!" Seaweed snapped his fingers. "Look in your purse."

Penny chortled. "He's always bringing me gum."

"Gotta keep that jaw nice and strong," Seaweed grinned.

"Two tickets to the Spring Fling!! Oh Seaweed! You're the ginchiest!"

"Say it with your hips, not your lips, sugar!"

Tracy was aware, somewhere in the hind of her brain, that they were making out, that other students were staring or trying to maneuver their way around them. But to Tracy, their entandres came from a million miles away, and only one refrain echoed in her mind.

THE BYRDS in Baltimore!

  
****

Ancient history had never interested her but it was even harder to keep her mind on the exploits of Hadrian when Link sat right next to her chewing his pencil.

He passed her a note just before the bell rang. "Malt shop after rehearsals tomorrow?"

Needless to say, Tracy lived the next day for the moment they'd climb on the bus and drive downtown to the studio, learn the newest dances and practice the newest commercial spots. Little Inez had assumed Amber's dressing room when her mother had pulled her out of the show, and it became the consummate hang-out for post-rehearsal parties.

Link was spinning the new Temptations platter on Little Inez' tiny hi-fi, and when he swept Tracy close, she feels like the queen of the hop.

"So, Tracy-doll," he whispered, "I heard you've been jonsing to go to that beach party down on the shore."

"Oh Link, it's my dream!" she admitted.

"Reach in my front pocket," he instructed.

She eyed him. "Link, Corny's right over..."

"Not that, Trace." He reached into his own front pocket and pulled out two tickets for the concert. Tracy let out an operatic shriek that rivaled the music, and then he spun her about to the tune.

"That's not the best part," he told her. "The best part is that we're going as the official face of the Corny Collins show. We're gonna be dancing up there live behind Otis Redding!"

Tracy's shriek was joined by Little Inez', and the rest of the Council joined right in. This was big potatoes - if they got seen by the right people, they might even get a screen test.

***

Three days later, she found herself sleeping on Link's shoulder, riding together toward the shore, where she had never been. Her mother had wrung promise after promise from Tracy, and she was ready to behave on that late spring day.

To a degree.

She awoke to Penny's voice. "Omigod, Trace, have you tried these?" she brandished a bottle of greenish liquid that smelled strongly of lighter fluid and made Tracy recoil.

"What is that junk?"

"Seaweed bought it from a guy he met at the rest stop," she hiccupped. Seaweed waved at Tracy over the back of his seat with his toes.

Doom stole through Tracy's nerves. They were representing the Corny Collins show, unofficially, and Maybelle and Corny trusted them to be alone and on their best behavior. Not to mention Tracy's mom's rules. "My mom said no drinking!" she hissed, trying to avoid looking at the couple necking two seats away from them.

"Honey, they call this a one-beer lunch where I'm from," Seaweed said, melting happily against the bench. She raised an eyebrow at him and turned back towards Penny.

"We can't look like this in front of a crowd," she reminded Penny. "Seaweed's mom is going to be there, and my mom, and..."

"Tracy, just go with the flow," Seaweed suggested. "Go with that flow..."

Tracy, who had always been one for new frontiers, gave a look to the innocently-sleeping Link. He used her shoulder as a pillow while he drifted away. And she was nervous, and her mother would drink a martini to calm HERSELF down when she was upset....

She held out a hand. "I guess everything's worth trying once..."

****

By the time they made it to the shore, Link was the last sober person on the bus. He sat siphoning coffee into Penny and Tracy while Seaweed guiltily tried to regain his equilibrium.

"Your mom's gonna have us for lunch," lamented Link as he tried to pour coffee into Tracy's cup. She smiled at him blearily.

"Oh, Link, you look just like Troy Dona -" she hiccupped, "hu," she finished.

"Ugh, you smell like a bottle of booze, Trace. What's a levelheaded girl like you doing going wild."

"Ask Penny," she requested, pointing toward her friend, who was busy decorating the pavement with the contents of her stomach.

"'M'sorry, Tracy," Seaweed admitted. "Just thought we'd try to get a little 'with it'."

"It's my fault," Tracy admitted. "You don't think we're gonna get busted?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it. Come on, Trace - let's get going."

She shot a guilty look over her shoulder back at Seaweed and Penny, who were trying to hold themselves up. They all knew it had been a dumb day to experiment, but they were all equally guilty. "Come on, guys," she called, holding out her hand.

***

Tracy found herself in her tank suit onstage, doing the hully-gully to the tune of 'Surfing USA'. The audience's snide ignorance made her sit up straighter and work harder - she was one of the best dancers in Baltimore, even with a hangover and the snide disapproval of a full audience.

She glanced over at Link, then at Penny in the audience. Soon they would all be lying out on the sand, enjoying hot dogs and the warmth of the water. All she had to do was finish this dance....

And then she realized that she was glad they'd made the mistake of drinking a bit too much. It was another event that bound her closer to Penny, Seaweed and Link, another shared experience - and for that she would always be grateful.


End file.
